


If I Could Be So Bold

by Karacter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Bets & Wagers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Misunderstandings, Multi, Stiles Flirts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:09:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karacter/pseuds/Karacter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can totally flirt just as well as Lydia! He'd be willing to bet on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Place your bets

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Even the title belongs to The White Stripe's Hypnotize.
> 
> No Hale fire, parents live in the countryside somewhere. Beacon Hills did not happen. Everyone lives in NYC.

“Hah! Stiles be serious. Like you could make more sales than me.” She snorted derisively. “Men just naturally want to be served by beautiful women. Most of them anyway.”

She was standing, leaning on the counter as she reapplied her lip gloss. Stiles was watching her from his register next to her. Stiles and Lydia were working the counter at their job, while Erica restocked the shelves in the back room. It was agreed between Lydia and Stiles that she was rarely allowed to work the counter, as she tended to scare some of the younger men away with her predatory method of flirting. Erica was the beautiful bait that led them to the store, Lydia and Stiles were the ones that kept the men on the hook.

“Lydia I’m being deadly serious, I could make just as many sales as you! We men are fickle creatures and will listen to anyone flatter us. And Lydia, my goddess, you should know I can be very flattering” Stiles lent on the counter and attempted to wink at her, as his elbow slipped off and he staggered, trying to regain his balance.

“Stiles, honey” Erica interjected from the back room, “There’s a difference between being flattering and being laughably desperate”

“Ok then Stiles. If you’re so sure you can be just as good as me, prove it” Lydia smiled at him, the kind of grin a hyena gives to its prey.

Stiles steeled his gaze as he looked her dead in the eye “How?”

“One month, whoever woos the most customers into buying, wins.”

“Wins what?” 

“A favour, to be decided by the winner”

“Stiles, I don’t think you should do this, we work in a men’s store for god’s sake, you’ll never beat her” Erica said with less of her usual confidence, a slight undercurrent of worry behind her words.

But Stiles will be damned if that didn’t sound like a challenge to him. He had to prove his greatness to his friends. 

“Deal.”

 

“Laura” Derek groaned “I don’t need to go clothes shopping”

“Then stop destroying all your clothes every full moon Derek!” Laura snapped “I don’t understand why you need to wear clean clothes every time. Why can’t you just wear the clothes you wrecked last full moon?”

“Because if we run into hunters, it will look suspicious if we are wearing ripped old clothes!”

“So you need good clothes?”

“Yes.” 

“Well then you need to go clothes shopping!”

Derek paused, running through retorts in his head before deciding all resulting arguments were not worth it, Laura was just as quick-witted as him, and twice as cold-hearted about getting what she wanted.

“I give up.” Derek moaned in defeat.

“Good” Laura smirked “We’re going to the mall tomorrow”

“Laura, you don’t need to come with me!”

“This isn’t debatable, Der.” She countered as she walked upstairs, Derek trailing after her, arguing anyway.

 

In stalked Jackson, Stiles figured he killed that sale by howling with laughter at the Starbucks coffee soaked into his shirt and that furious scowl on his face. 

Stiles didn’t chalk it up as a huge loss, Lydia had been Jackson’s salesperson every time he came in, she was harbouring a little crush on the douchebag. 

God knows why. 

Half the times Jackson came straight from work it was because some girl had thrown something on him after finding out about his way with women.

Jackson finally chose a new shirt and brought it to the counter. Stiles leaned across.

“So what was it this time, Jackass?” Stiles asked light- heartedly then flinched away from the light slap Lydia aimed at his much-abused shoulder.

“Two turned up at once. One threw her drink at me and the other left the shop, so I went to take my apron off and go outside for my break and the other chick was waiting. She threw her drink at me too. I paid for those drinks.” 

Stiles sniggered at the surly look on Jacksons face as Lydia tutted quietly. 

A few strangers came in next and Stiles tried his masculine wiles on each. Some gave Stiles a polite smile before going to talk to Lydia, who never missed an opportunity to flash him that smug smile over her shoulder. Most just awkwardly walked away from him. 

There was one guy who overenthusiastically responded to him and let Stiles sell him about $150 worth of clothes, which Stiles thought sure that’s great but dude was creepy, he must’ve been mid-thirties at least, and looked at Stiles like a piece of meat.

He screwed up the ball of paper with his number and chucked it in the bin. Stiles was definitely not going to call him ever. The guy was disturbing. Seriously. There was no proof the “-P” he signed the note with was his initial.

Then in walked Isaac and Stiles sighed before smiling brilliantly at him and walked over. Isaac normally went to Lydia but always gave Stiles these little looks that Stiles knew all about. Isaac must’ve been so far in the closet it was a shock he wasn’t always dressed for Narnia’s winter.

“Hey, what can I do for you today, Isaac?” Stiles said, brushing his hand against Isaacs for a second as he came to stand beside him.

“Need a new pair of jeans.” Isaac mumbled, somewhat adorably.

“Got a style in mind?” 

“Uh, skinny?”

Stiles led him over to a rack of jeans and looked Isaac up and down, letting his gaze rest on Isaacs prominent hips, the adolescent was all bones sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“These look about your size, would you like to try them on?” Stiles asked, practically dragging Isaac over to the stores changing rooms. Isaac had mumbled something that sounded like agreement and that was good enough for Stiles. He pushed the blushing boy inside the changing room, hanging the jeans on the door, said “I’ll be just out here. Call if you need help with anything. At all.” And closed the door with a conspiratorial wink that definitely did not look like a constipated blink to Isaac.

Isaac opened the door slowly and blinked owlishly at Stiles as he motioned for Isaac to twirl. Isaac obliged, nervously shuffling in a circle like a penguin. Stiles muttered “Excellent bottom” in a low voice, just loud enough for Isaac to hear. When Isaac turned back around the blush had returned, covering his jutting cheekbones.

“I’m no Rose Tyler” he smiled, voice barely above a whisper, “but I suppose it’s adequate enough.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Derek and Laura, Peter makes a reappearance and Stiles is the clumsiest.

“Hey Stiles, I think I’ll be generous and give you this one” Lydia said cheerily. It was week two and Lydia was miles ahead in their bet.

“Really? Thanks Lyds, that’s actually really nice of y…. Oh I hate you.” Stiles face dropped as he saw the pair who just walked in. A gorgeous woman was dragging in a man who was probably equally as gorgeous when his face wasn’t pulled into a sour scowl. 

And that wasn’t the worst of it. The girl was dressed impeccably, in the latest fashions, styled to look casual but Stiles sold clothes at a high end retailer and could see how much looking good must’ve cost this woman. Style was obviously important to her. She was going to be a tough customer, especially shopping for the man she was tugging around the store like an accessory. 

“Uh, excuse me miss, can I offer you and your boyfriend some assistance” Stiles said bravely, feeling like someone asking a moody king not to chop their head off.

“This is my brother, not my boyfriend.” The elegant women corrected. “And I doubt you could help us.” She tacked on after looking him up and down in a way that made him feel very defensive.  
Stiles blushed furiously as he heard Lydia’s stifled, yet evil, laugh from the counter. It didn’t help that Mr Scowl-of-the-Century was smirking cruelly along with his sister. 

“Now, now Laura, let’s not be so harsh on the poor boy.” Came a voice from the entrance, and in walked the creep from last week.

“Uncle Peter, what’re you doing here?” Laura asked suspiciously.

“Peter came by just last week, I helped him out.” Stiles interjected quickly. “Would you say I was helpful, Peter?”

“Oh yes.” Peter leered at Stiles.

“Fine, find my brother some shirts and durable pants while I deal with this one.” Laura smiled widely and Stiles suddenly felt very afraid, he’d seen that smile before. In fact he was sure he’d seen it on Lydia when she’d made the bet.

“So why’d your sister look like she’d won something when she sent you off with me?” Stiles tried to make small talk as the grumpy man browsed through a rack. 

“That’s Laura for you. Glad to be rid of me, I bet.” He said, a hint of jest in his voice that Stiles takes to be a good sign.

“Aw come on now, you don’t seem that bad” Stiles replied, trying desperately to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as the man gave him a look that would’ve crumbled a lesser mans will to continue the conversation. “Anyway, my name is Stiles. “

“Derek” was the reply he got.

“The pleasures all mine” he said, trying his best to get a reaction from Derek, “what are you looking for today?”

“A couple of outfits.” Well at least a sale to this guy would help stiles reach his sales target then. 

Stiles figured it was going to take all his skill to get even a smile out of this guy but he was nothing if not determined. He sized Derek up and down, definitely not taking his time no way, while Derek eyed him sceptically and with a quick “be right back”, Stiles was off, picking out a few pairs of pants, about six different shirts to go with them, a green Henley and two quality leather jackets. When he returned with all the clothes hangers dangling from his skinny wrists, he could’ve sworn Derek’s expression went from scepticism to straight up fear. 

That just would not do.

So Stiles picked three of the hangers from his wrist, holding them up to show the great outfit they would make, just dark enough to suit Derek’s obvious tastes, but not so dark he’d look like a serial killer. Well, more like a serial killer. 

Derek retreated into the dressing room, muttering a quick thanks as he pulled shut the curtains. Once more Stiles wondered who the hell used curtains as doors to a dressing room, because those things never closed it off fully and so Stiles could still see the tanned arms of the handsome, scary stranger he was serving. He quickly made an about turn, discovering the two warm bodies standing creepily close. Derek’s freakishly gorgeous relatives had somehow come to be hovering behind him, without making a sound. So Stiles did what any sensible twenty-two-year-old man would do. He shrieked, leaping backwards, straight into the curtain behind him. He heard the curtain ripping off its rack and Lydia gasping from her spot at the counter as the thick fabric fell over his eyes. Stiles thanked his lucky stars that he could not see the scowl Derek must be making.

Just as Stiles began praying for a swift death, Laura keeled over laughing, taking the opportunity to pull the curtain off Stiles’ head and him up off the floor. 

“That was hilarious, look at you little bro, you’re basically a tomato.” Laura laughed.

“And yet you still vaguely resemble a thundercloud.” Peter sighs, “Those eyebrows are just hopeless.”

Stiles turns around to see Derek, in a well-fitting pair of jeans because Stiles does know how to do some things right, and he reaches up to scratch his head nervously, “Sorry man” he says sheepishly.

“S’alright” Derek mutters. “I have a feeling you aren’t to blame here anyway.” Derek glowers at the two people smiling not so innocently at them.

“Well at least the pants fit. What do you think?” Stiles asks, determined to forget the incident already.

“Comfy.” Is his reply, although abrupt, Stiles swears the scowl lessens slightly. 

“Anything else?” Stiles asks, Derek just stares at him. “Ok…”

“Don’t panic kid” Laura interjects. “That’s practically a glowing report from Derek.” 

“On to the next pair then, let’s just get you into another fitting room. And I would like to point out, despite the pitch of my manly yell earlier, I am actually an adult.” Stiles said sharply as Peter and Laura walked off to browse.

Derek pulled back the not ruined curtain to reveal the second pair fit just as nicely, as did the sweater and jacket. The whole outfit made Derek look like the boy nobody wants their daughter to meet, an old school heartbreaker. Erica would be proud her training has worked so well.

“Perfect!” Stiles exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Did I do good, or did I do good” He asks Derek.

“Mm” Derek hums agreeably, ever the conversationalist. 

“Alright, what do I have to do to get a full sentence out of you.” Stiles sighs despairingly. 

“I was told to never talk to strangers” comes the stoic reply. Stiles stares in awe at Derek’s joke, as a bark of laughter is heard from Laura. “Come on baby brother, if you hurry I’ll even take you to the park!” She jokes.

Stiles walks to the counter, waiting for Derek to change back into his clothes and decide, he’s pleasantly surprised when the group approach the counter with two of everything suggested by himself, there’s even a few colours in the mix. 

As he totals up the sale, Laura and Peter chat with him, but Derek doesn’t say a word, until they leave, when he turns back to say a quick goodbye as the beautiful trio walk away.

"I'm in love" Stiles clutches dramatically at his heart.

“Unbelievable.” He hears from beside him as he puts his elbows on the bench, resting his chin in his hands as he stares longingly at the entrance.

“Hmm?” Thwap! “Ow! Lydia, what the hell?!” He exclaims to the redhead goddess, holding a rolled up catalogue.

“You are an idiot.”

“What’d I do?”

“That guy barely said two words to you! You hardly know him.”

“He made a joke, Lyds” Stiles sighs dreamily.


End file.
